


Of Dragons

by OfBearIsland (jurassic)



Series: Folklore [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Free Cities of Essos (A Song of Ice and Fire), Stories of Dragons, Young Daenerys, Young Viserys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jurassic/pseuds/OfBearIsland
Summary: Fighting for survival in the Free Cities of Essos, Viserys teaches his younger sister everything a Targaryen needs to know. That is blood, dragons, fire and pain. And as they grow older, the story of their life blossoms, growing them into the last Dragon and his sister while they travel through the Nine Cities of Essos, across the Narrow Sea, wishing for home.Viserys is a cruel brother, but in his own way, he makes sure that Daenerys holds a sisterly love for him as intensely as Dragons love fire.[Character study for Daenerys Targaryen.]
Series: Folklore [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168526
Kudos: 1





	Of Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this story, I'm very excited to share, because writing Daenerys and Viserys as (young) children was great fun.  
> I hope you feel the same reading the story.

_ There once was a Dragon, mighty and tall. His weapons were fire and claws. _

_ The blood of his enemies the only thing that nurtured him. _

_ Death, like a loyal servant, followed him wherever he went.  _

_ But he did not gift him lives for sport, he had a treasure to protect. _

_ There once was a Dragon, devoted and able. His duty were family and reign. _

_ The armor of his nation, nothing more than his own skin. _

_ Death, like an estranged friend, followed him inevitably. _

_ But he did not gift him any lives without a fight, for he had vowed to protect those that served him. _

_ There once was a Dragon. There once was a Dragon. _

_ But once was then, and now is now. _

His sister’s eyes were closed now, her face calmed by the peace of sleep. Her hair shone in the candle light, like thin threads spun of paramount silver. Fine enough to dance invisibly in the night air, but of a strength that could cut flesh. His mother had often complimented his fair hair and compared it to Valyrian steel, the strongest there was. But Viserys knew, looking upon his young sister’s face that her locks were even fairer. 

He extinguished the only burning candle in the room, welcoming the humid darkness of the nocturnal Inn room they had taken residence in. The four walls that sheltered them were slick with the sweat of the hot city, its hollow walls allowing the echo of drunkards and sellswords from below. And as Viserys turned to leave his sister’s small bed, she stirred with creased eyebrows, her small fingers gripping his wrist with more strength than she appeared to have.

“Don’t leave me alone, Viserys. I don’t want to be alone. Come and sleep here, there is enough room on my bed.” Her voice was faint, and small. Even for that of a child. And sleep lay heavy on her whisper.

He wanted to stay. More than anything in the world.

“Go back to sleep. You promised me you would sleep if I told you another story.” He sighed. “I have to go, Daenerys. You know I do. We won’t get breakfast if I don’t help downstairs.” 

“I can help too.” She sounded more awake now, her tone honest and near excited with the prospect of being with her older brother. 

But Viserys pinched her arm now, his face contorted with a hint anger in the darkness. “I only told you that story because you promised you would go to bed willingly then. You can’t be dishonest with your older brother, Daenerys.” He scolded her through the night air, and even though she couldn’t see her brother, Daenerys knew he was looking at her with those pale lilac eyes, gleaming with his dissatisfaction at her. It was an emotion she had come to greet like a familiar. He had once told her that the color of his eyes represented the color of a dragon’s flame at the very source of the fire from his mouth. And that precisely was a show of his ancestry. He was the last great Dragon. 

She would have a bruise where he nipped her, come tomorrow morning.

\------ x X x -----

_ Black milk. _

_ Black as ravens. _

_ Black as the starless nights on Dragonstone. _

_ Balerion the Black Dread swooped down from the sky and turned everything black.  _

_ His shadow so great that it covered whole cities. His wings so wide that they covered entire armies. _

_ His flame so hot that he melted stone.  _

_ Black as coal. _

_ Black as the bottom of the Narrow Sea. _

_ Black milk was the blood of his burned foes. _

“Black milk?” Daenerys’ chin rested upon her small palms, her short fingers bent and holding both her cheeks as she sat on the ground, eagerly listening to her older brother. “Milk is not black.”

_ Twist. _

A twinge spread through her flesh as he squeezed her delicate skin painfully between two fingers. But she didn’t even yelp anymore, she swallowed the sound, swallowed the pain and sucked in a sharp breath to ease the hurt. 

“It’s a figure of speech, little sister.” Viserys was not cruel about the correction. He had taught her long ago, that she was less. Less smart, less beautiful, less valuable. Altogether less. She was the last dragon’s only living family member and while they were meant to be, it was him who had to shoulder the burden of carrying their name. Their house. The house Targaryen. 

She should be grateful to be at his side. And she loved him for it. She loved him for making sure she had breakfast. She adored him for taking care of her. His tales about the dragons of their family. And he always made sure she wore fabric befitting of a King’s daughter, of a future King’s little sister, even though they had no money. Her hair was always combed and her feet were always clean. He often talked her into the dreams that filled her head, dreams of flying beasts and princesses and a throne the size of a house. 

She feared him, sometimes. But in her head, she knew that she only felt afraid because of the respect she owed him. He taught her everything. And if she didn’t learn quickly, he would help her with a pinch. And she always wore his lessons on her skin, mostly on her arms and her thighs, sometimes on the flesh of her hip too, if the lofty dresses of the warm weather allowed him to nip her there. 

He had slapped her once. His hand like burning flames on her cheek. The Dragon’s Wrath he had called it. But later, when his temper had been milder again, he had conceded that he shouldn’t have hit her. She was his sister after all, and the virtue of her face was too important.

“Will you tell me another story?” Her round violet eyes found his. 

“Tomorrow, sweet sister.” 

Tomorrow arrived in the form of bright hot rays of sunshine, twinkling over the Targaryen children’s faces as they slept, curled up in each other's arms, their pale skin reflecting the hot light with a radiating glow. Daenerys was the first one awake, her tired little eyes out of focus and too sensitive to the burning morning light. She didn’t stir, nor did she move even one muscle as Viserys breathed evenly next to her. His arm was draped over her tiny form, and she had slept at his chest all night. Those were the nights she awoke the most rested. 

The joy she felt when she could lay by his side and listen to his heartbeat, was unlike anything she ever felt. He made her feel so safe. And the knowledge that they were the last of their House and that home awaited them, it only strengthened the connection she felt to him. 

Viserys came awake then, rustling in his sleep and grunting with his soft, boyish voice. His eyebrows narrowed as he peaked an eye open, his dazed glance met with her shining, clear irises. He was not a morning bird, but he hugged her closer in his lank arms and his slumberous tone was like a lullaby to her ears. Coaxing her back into a world, half asleep, half awake.

_ Home, my dear Daenerys, is a place made of the hardest stone,  _

_ and the most unwavering wood.  _

_ Forged by the fire of Dragons, upon a shore close to the Sea. _

_ The weather is not like here, not always burning. But harsh in a wild manner. _

_ With winds that compliment a Dragon’s wings. _

_ We will take it back. _

_ With swords and shields. With armies and armored beasts.  _

_ We will free the people of Westeros _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think.  
> I personally always thought that Viserys was killed too quickly in the show, I would have loved to learn more about their relationship, especially since she basically named a Dragon after her brother.  
> Follow me on Tumblr if you like: getyououtmymind is the username :)


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